


An Equal

by Molsy1603



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018), Villanelle - Fandom
Genre: Assassins & Hitmen, F/F, Psychopath, Psychopaths In Love, Secret Intelligence Service | MI6, Sociopath
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-07
Updated: 2018-10-07
Packaged: 2019-07-27 17:10:17
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,660
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16223585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Molsy1603/pseuds/Molsy1603
Summary: following on from the season 1 after Villanelle has healed and is ready to start working again.





	An Equal

It was quite sad really Everest thought to herself, that such a talent was going to go to waste. She stared down at the folder she was holding. She gazed intregingly at the women in the pictures. She was pretty. She could see herself taking the life out of her brown eyes, but that would be for another time. She was her target, her pray.

She sat patiently, with her wireless noise cancelling headphones on. She hated having to communicate with people and for the most part they well; stopped that. The flight attendent waved her arms around to signal the exits but, Everest was lost in her music. She always wondered what it would feel like to be so little minded as to feel. To love and loss. She however had had a greater gift. To feel nothing.

It wasn’t a long flight but, it was about to become longer. The women that sat next to her was clearly a chatty Kathy and only ten minuets in she was having a full blown arguement with her husband two chairs down. With that Everest signalled for the stewdess and asked from a double gin and tonic.after that came two more. 

With the flight finally landing she took a sigh of relief. Any longer and she would stab the women in neck. Not enough to kill but just enough to cause paralyse. She made a consciuos effort to only pack a carry on. It made the airport process remarkably quicker.

It wasnt long before she was out of the terminal doors and into the cold air. She stopped in her tracks and took a second to take in her surroundings. The sky was grey and the concrete looked wet like it had just rained. “Ahh england i’ve missed you” she said to no one. Instinctively she put her arm hailing a cab. 

“The Tower Hotel please” she resites in her best italian accent. At first the driver didn’t move. He just stared at her through the rear view mirror. “non sei un po 'giovane per viaggiare da sola ragazza?” are not you a little young to travel alone girl.

Her eyes almost showed worry. almost but, just as quick as any signs could show on her face she returned “sei un uomo gentile, purtroppo sono stato benedetto con una faccia da bambino. sono in realtà 21”you are a kind man, i was unfortunately blessed with a childs face. i am actually 21 her tone was sharpe but, altogether sweet and charming. The man smiled and started the car.

It was around 40 minuets to the hotel and the went surprisingly quickly. The driver was rather talketive but a kind mand. He lay his cards on the table for her to see and she respected his honesty despite her lack of.

She tuned out about 5 minuets in and began to use her time more wisely. She mentally went over her target and the many ways to enflict pain. She wanted to make it look real messy. A crime of passion only a husband or a lover could commit but, she mentally kicked herself for being such a fool. Only an idiot would wear a white shirt. So she was back to the drawing board.

She was pulled from her thoughts by a cough. Finding the trace of what rudely pulled her from her daydream was not hard. It came in a bright red coat and top hat. It was the door man, with his old wringled skin and wirey mustache. He had already removed her bag from the boot and opened the car door. She shook her head, coming quickly back to relality. She paid the driver and thanked him in his mother tongue.

The hotel was grand, very artistercratic with large wingback chairs scattered around the entry for dignetrys to sit and read there papers. The girl behind the desk looked fairly inexperienced as she floundered about trying to find something for a client stood by her deak.She was glad she didnt have to check in. Her handler had already done that and was waiting for her in her room.She rode the elevator up to the fifth floor, walked along the hall to her room and opened the door. 

Dropping her bag at the door, she admired the white airy room before walking in and flopping on the bed.“You’re late”. Everest scolked and rolled over. Staring at the ceiling she didnt even need to look at the women sat in the chair in the corner to know who she was.

“hey Everest, how are you? You know what im great, i had some amazing sex last night with a women i met at a club. How about yourself? You know what its funny you should say, i had great sex with my husband last night even though we are both like a gegillion years old “ Everest said in a sarcastic tone rolling her greeny blue eyes and sitting up in the processs. 

“ you aren’t funny” the women sulked in the corner. It was only then did Everest look at the women. She was late 50s and had short hair. Her name was carolyn martens. She was MI6 and my god was she a pain in the ass. “ have you studied the reports i sent you?” with a nod from Everest she continued. “ please remeber this is a development and reconisanse mission so lets try and keep the deaths at a nice round number of 0” and with that the women left leaving Everest alone rolling back onto the bed.

A few minuets went by before she moved. Getting up slowly she put her grey burberry ¾ length coat on. the material was soft and contrasted greatly with her white button down shirt and black well fitting trousers. She placed the gun that had been left on the table next to wear the other women was sitting, in her wasteband. She paused for a second before leaving. Looking at her self in the mirror she popped up her coat collar and looked at her face. 

Her freckles are out more that usually, contrast massively against her pale skin. This was the curtasy of the work trip she had recently taken to italy. Her hair is brown with ginger and blond trailing through it down to her shoulders. It was naturally wavy and always messy. She is sure that she is supposed to feel something when she looks at herself i the mirror. Guilt perhaps but, nothing. Instead she furrows her eyebrows and moves closer to the mirror. “Fuck that” she says staring at a spot forming on her cheek. She turns towards the door and leaves with nothing more. 

\------------------------------------------------------------------  
Villanella’s posture was stiff; she was sat on the edge of her seat, mug pressed against her bottom lip. The cafe was dark and dingy, nothing like the places she was used to back home in Paris. The girl behind the counter is pretty, blonde and smiling at her. Yet, her eyes were trained out the window at the blue door across the street. Eve’s house.

At first Villanella thought Eve meant something, like she started to feel for the first time. She was wrong. It took a knife to realise that. That was a month ago.Yet, she has sat in this caffe for 3 days straight. She has watched many people come and go from the flat. Delivery men mostly, then on the third day a women. She was mid 50s and, about 5,4 ft tall with short hair and dark clothes. She Entered the flat at 5:32 empty handed and, left less than five minutes later with a brown box. 

Villanella had stretch out her coffee to try to get a glimpse of Eve as she let out a visiter, but nothing just a hand. Nothing more. She politely smiled to the girl behind the counter but on her dusky pink mac and left. The sky was grey and overcast above and, the concrete below was wet; where it had rained earlier that day.

She crossed to the other side of the road and began to walk home. Ever since she was a child she liked to stare at the pavement and avoid the cracks. She’d only been playing her game for a few seconds before a body rudely clambered into her. By the time she looked up to see the brute said body belong to the girl had already half turned with a breath “sorry”. 

The girl had dark brown wavy hair pulled into a high bun, and was wearing her grey felt coat collar up to shelter her freckled skin from the wind. She was a pretty girl and if she hadn't been so busy counting the slabs she probably would have tried her out for size. 

It took 100 paces down the street before Villanelle decided to turn back towards Eve’s. Something wasnt right. When she arrived, the door was left 2 inches open. Being sure to check behind her; she pulled the gun from her belt and, proceed into the house. It didn't take long to find Eve; she was lying face down on the kitchen floor, in a pool of her own blood. Her eyes were closed and the bullet came from behind. She didn't know it was coming. Painless. 

Feelings stirred in Villanelle, she was jealous of the hit. Who ever did this was clearly a professional. She was jealous that they took her pray from her. Eve was her kill to have and, she hadn’t finished playing yet. If she was normal she would probably feel sad, but she wasn’t normal and, she wasnt sad. She was mad. Who did this? And then it hit her “finally someone interesting to play with” she said to the corpse she is stood over. She takes a final look before leaving. It's time to go home. Back to paris.


End file.
